Seize the Day - NaNoWriMo Attempt - Chapter 2
So my NaNo project? Completely rewriting the Tomorrow Trilogy so that it's no longer a trilogy and mostly focuses on Jazz and Savin's story, in a tighter, more abridged sense. I'm sticking with the title Seize the Day for now, because it still fits a lot of the "theme" that seems to be present in the book. Yay NaNoWriMo!
Previous chapter:
1
The next morning, Jazz woke up with a start. Savin, the man who had taken him home the night before, still lay beside him, his long, thin arms draped over Jazz’s side. He hadn’t so much as moved, despite Jazz’s harsh wake up. Jazz sat upright, putting his head in his hands and raking his fingers through his short, cropped hair.
He didn’t want to wake Savin up. Didn’t want to sneak out, either, without so much as saying goodbye. He always hated that about one-night stands -- goodbyes were awkward, no matter how one handled it. Sighing, Jazz pushed himself out of the bed and began gathering up his discarded clothes.
“What? Not even gonna say goodbye, first?” Savin grumbled, his eyes still closed as he rolled onto his back.
Jazz jumped, his pants falling back down to the floor as he glanced over at Savin. “I wasn’t -- I wasn’t leaving, yet,” he stammered, his face burning with shame. “I just -- I needed to go to the bathroom, and I didn’t want to wake you up, and --”
Savin snorted, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips as he faced Jazz. He pillowed his head with his arm. “It’s alright, I was just messing with you, anyway,” he said, pulling his sheets further up his body. “Bathroom’s just out the door, to your left. If you wanna take a shower before you leave, go ahead. I’m on-call today, so I don’t have to be anywhere if you want to stay for a bit.”
Jazz nodded, tugging his pants back up over his hips. He bit his lip and avoided Savin’s eyes. “I probably shouldn’t stay that long,” he said, fumbling with the button to his jeans. “I’m expected to be somewhere, in a couple of hours.”
Savin’s eyes clouded with disappointment, but he nodded his head and pushed himself into a sitting position. He then stretched, his long, almost too-thin body catching Jazz’s eye yet again. Savin had that look, the one people got when they often got too wrapped up in something to eat. Except those green eyes of Savin’s were clear, last night. Those same eyes were now focused on him, and Jazz cleared his throat and looked away.
“Work, or...?” Savin asked, trailing off. He turned his back to Jazz as he scooped his own clothes off the floor.
“Yeah, work,” Jazz said, hoping his answer didn’t sound too dismissive. Too convenient. He didn’t want to admit to Savin that he didn’t have a job. That technically, he couldn’t even hold down a job. He glanced at his phone, noticing that the words 2 Messages from Mitchel on his screen, as well as a notice for several missed calls -- and not all of them were from Mitchel.
His stomach twisted and he shoved his phone back into his pocket. Of course Mitchel would check up on him while he was out. The missed calls, Jazz knew, were from his father’s guards. Sighing, Jazz picked up his shirt and tugged it down over his head. “I mean, I can stay for breakfast,” he said, catching Savin’s eye again. “But that’s really about it.”
Savin nodded, throwing a t-shirt over his head. As he pulled it into place, he smirked at Jazz. “So are you going to take a shower, then?” he asked, walking around the edge of the bed. He pulled Jazz close to him, his lips pressing themselves against Jazz’s neck. “I don’t normally eat breakfast,” he breathed in Jazz’s ear.
Jazz’s face burned again and he managed a slight smile, shaking his head. “Depends,” he answered, ignoring the way his stomach threatened to jump into his throat. If Mitchel could see him now -- hell, if Mitchel could have seen him last night --
Jazz cut that thought short and slid his hands up Savin’s chest. He didn’t need to be thinking about Mitchel, right now. “Are you gonna join me in the shower?” he asked, tilting his head to the side as Savin’s lips continued to tease his neck.
“If you want me to,” Savin responded, chuckling against Jazz’s skin. “Then I can make you breakfast, and then you can be on your way.”
Jazz laughed. “I thought you said you don’t eat breakfast?” he asked, pulling away from Savin. He made his way to Savin’s bedroom door, Savin following closely behind him.
Savin grinned. “Just because I don’t normally eat it doesn’t mean I don’t know how to make it,” he said. He slipped an arm around Jazz’s waist, his hand landing squarely on Jazz’s ass and squeezing. “And I might as well feed you, since you spent the night, last night,” he continued with a wink.
Jazz rolled his eyes, relaxing against Savin as the two of them made their way into the bathroom. He tried to keep his mind off his phone and the messages that were left anxiously waiting for him to check. Tried to pretend that when he left, he wasn’t heading back home to a life that he felt didn’t suit him.
No, instead he focused on Savin’s wiry form as he turned on the shower and checked the temperature of the water. Focused on the way Savin eyed him, his tongue darting over thin lips, probably subconsciously. Once they were in the shower together, Jazz focused on the way Savin’s body felt pressed against his, how Savin’s mouth tasted, how Savin’s hands seemed to know exactly where to touch to get him aching and begging for release.
It didn’t matter that Savin’s apartment was a little small and a little run down. Compared to the life Jazz was used to, it felt homey. Right. Even Savin’s cramped shower felt better than the bathrooms available to him at home -- even though the showers there were much better suited for having sex in.
Too bad he had to leave. He couldn’t even leave Savin with his number, though Savin tried to give Jazz his. Jazz took it and smiled, typing it in wrong as Savin rattled the numbers off to him. Once Jazz stepped out of Savin’s apartment, he sighed and put his phone to his ear.
“I’m fine, Dad,” he muttered into the phone as he began to make his way out of the apartment complex. “Tell the Guard to pick me up at Summerset apartments. I’ll be nearby.”
He didn’t give his father a chance to say anything, hanging up the phone and placing it back in his pocket. He made his way to a visible, but not too conspicuous spot, and waited. Sighing, he placed his hands in his pockets, chewing on his bottom lip. He tugged on the collar of his shirt, hoping Savin hadn’t left any obvious marks on his body.
Jazz snorted when he saw the black vehicle pull up in front of him only minutes later. A woman stepped out of the driver’s side door, walking around the perimeter of the car and opening the door for Jazz. “Prince Jasper,” she said with a nod.
“Mornin’, Alexandra,” Jazz said, keeping his voice low as he slipped inside the car. The door shut firmly behind him, his heart sinking in his chest as he pulled the seat belt across his lap.
“Your father wishes to speak with you when we arrive back at the Palace,” Alexandra said as she climbed into the driver’s seat, her voice firm. “Councilor Foraker also requested to see you, once your father is finished with you.”
Jazz winced. “Of course he does,” he said with a sigh. “Could you please not tell Mitchel where I’ve been?” he pleaded. He glanced around the inside of the car. “Where’s the rest of the Guard?”
“Back at the Palace,” Alexandra said, her tone lightening up some. She paused, pursing her lips together. “Are you and Mitchel having problems? You haven’t snuck out of the Palace like this in a long time...”
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Jazz said with a sigh, resting his head back against the seat. He crossed one leg over the other and looked out the window, watching as Alexandra drove them back towards the Palace. “Is Dad pissed at me?” he asked, hoping to change the subject.
“Is water wet?” Alexandra said wryly in response. “He wants to know how the hell you keep managing to sneak out of the Palace without any of the Guard on your tail. He thinks you’re paying them off.”
Jazz snorted, shaking his head. “With what money?” he asked. “It’s not like he doesn’t monitor every dollar I spend and where, anyway.”
“True,” Alexandra murmured, lifting her shoulder in a partial shrug. “So, why’d you sneak out, last night?” she asked, changing the subject back. “You gave the Guard quite the slip, too -- they didn’t even get remotely close to figuring out where you were, last night.”
Jazz smiled at that. “Good,” he said, resting his chin in his palm “That means I haven’t lost my touch.”
“Look, Jasper --”
“Jazz.”
“Jasper,” Alexandra repeated, an uncompromising note to her voice, “You need to stop sneaking out like this. You can’t just -- keep pushing off your duties as the Emperor’s son. You’re a prince, for Christ’s sake -- you need to start acting like it.”
“Thanks for the lecture, Dad,” Jazz muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. He glared at Alexandra and then sighed, shaking his head. “Look, I’m sorry,” he whispered, biting his bottom lip. “It’s just -- I never asked for this, y’know? I’d much rather live a normal life and work a normal job and just -- never have to worry about any of the political shit.”
“I’m aware,” Alexandra said with a sigh of her own. “And look, I’m just giving you the lecture now because maybe you’ll actually listen to me. You’re twenty-five. You’re an adult, and you need to start acting like it. This -- this sneaking out at night? It’s dangerous. It doesn’t matter that the general public doesn’t immediately recognize you for who you are -- there’s a bunch of dangerous shit going down right now. They might recognize you, and kill you.”
Jazz resisted the urge to roll his eyes and huffed. “Right,” he said, refusing to look over at Alexandra. “You know, you’re not my mother --”
“I’m more than well-aware,” Alexandra snapped. “That woman couldn’t ever be bothered with pretending to be your mother, even when she was alive. Just -- please, Jasper. Just listen to me for once. Stop sneaking out of the Palace. Start really learning what’s going on with the Empire. Please. For your sake -- for Mitchel’s sake.”
Jazz’s face burned, tears stinging at his eyes. He scowled, crossing his arms over his chest even tighter. “Mitchel and I aren’t --” He took in a deep breath, burying his fingers in his hair for a moment as he willed his voice to remain steady. “We broke up,” he finished.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Alexandra said, reaching out a hand and patting Jazz lightly on his knee. “Mitchel did seem rather self-centered. He can be kind of a jerk, too, during the Council meetings when he thinks someone is wrong -- I can only imagine how he treated you.”
Jazz nodded, not willing to trust his voice for a moment longer. He choked back his tears and shook his head. As Alexandra pulled them through the Palace gates, he looked over the huge, ornate building.
He wasn’t looking forward to speaking with his father.
Next Chapter
Previous chapter:
1
The next morning, Jazz woke up with a start. Savin, the man who had taken him home the night before, still lay beside him, his long, thin arms draped over Jazz’s side. He hadn’t so much as moved, despite Jazz’s harsh wake up. Jazz sat upright, putting his head in his hands and raking his fingers through his short, cropped hair.
He didn’t want to wake Savin up. Didn’t want to sneak out, either, without so much as saying goodbye. He always hated that about one-night stands -- goodbyes were awkward, no matter how one handled it. Sighing, Jazz pushed himself out of the bed and began gathering up his discarded clothes.
“What? Not even gonna say goodbye, first?” Savin grumbled, his eyes still closed as he rolled onto his back.
Jazz jumped, his pants falling back down to the floor as he glanced over at Savin. “I wasn’t -- I wasn’t leaving, yet,” he stammered, his face burning with shame. “I just -- I needed to go to the bathroom, and I didn’t want to wake you up, and --”
Savin snorted, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips as he faced Jazz. He pillowed his head with his arm. “It’s alright, I was just messing with you, anyway,” he said, pulling his sheets further up his body. “Bathroom’s just out the door, to your left. If you wanna take a shower before you leave, go ahead. I’m on-call today, so I don’t have to be anywhere if you want to stay for a bit.”
Jazz nodded, tugging his pants back up over his hips. He bit his lip and avoided Savin’s eyes. “I probably shouldn’t stay that long,” he said, fumbling with the button to his jeans. “I’m expected to be somewhere, in a couple of hours.”
Savin’s eyes clouded with disappointment, but he nodded his head and pushed himself into a sitting position. He then stretched, his long, almost too-thin body catching Jazz’s eye yet again. Savin had that look, the one people got when they often got too wrapped up in something to eat. Except those green eyes of Savin’s were clear, last night. Those same eyes were now focused on him, and Jazz cleared his throat and looked away.
“Work, or...?” Savin asked, trailing off. He turned his back to Jazz as he scooped his own clothes off the floor.
“Yeah, work,” Jazz said, hoping his answer didn’t sound too dismissive. Too convenient. He didn’t want to admit to Savin that he didn’t have a job. That technically, he couldn’t even hold down a job. He glanced at his phone, noticing that the words 2 Messages from Mitchel on his screen, as well as a notice for several missed calls -- and not all of them were from Mitchel.
His stomach twisted and he shoved his phone back into his pocket. Of course Mitchel would check up on him while he was out. The missed calls, Jazz knew, were from his father’s guards. Sighing, Jazz picked up his shirt and tugged it down over his head. “I mean, I can stay for breakfast,” he said, catching Savin’s eye again. “But that’s really about it.”
Savin nodded, throwing a t-shirt over his head. As he pulled it into place, he smirked at Jazz. “So are you going to take a shower, then?” he asked, walking around the edge of the bed. He pulled Jazz close to him, his lips pressing themselves against Jazz’s neck. “I don’t normally eat breakfast,” he breathed in Jazz’s ear.
Jazz’s face burned again and he managed a slight smile, shaking his head. “Depends,” he answered, ignoring the way his stomach threatened to jump into his throat. If Mitchel could see him now -- hell, if Mitchel could have seen him last night --
Jazz cut that thought short and slid his hands up Savin’s chest. He didn’t need to be thinking about Mitchel, right now. “Are you gonna join me in the shower?” he asked, tilting his head to the side as Savin’s lips continued to tease his neck.
“If you want me to,” Savin responded, chuckling against Jazz’s skin. “Then I can make you breakfast, and then you can be on your way.”
Jazz laughed. “I thought you said you don’t eat breakfast?” he asked, pulling away from Savin. He made his way to Savin’s bedroom door, Savin following closely behind him.
Savin grinned. “Just because I don’t normally eat it doesn’t mean I don’t know how to make it,” he said. He slipped an arm around Jazz’s waist, his hand landing squarely on Jazz’s ass and squeezing. “And I might as well feed you, since you spent the night, last night,” he continued with a wink.
Jazz rolled his eyes, relaxing against Savin as the two of them made their way into the bathroom. He tried to keep his mind off his phone and the messages that were left anxiously waiting for him to check. Tried to pretend that when he left, he wasn’t heading back home to a life that he felt didn’t suit him.
No, instead he focused on Savin’s wiry form as he turned on the shower and checked the temperature of the water. Focused on the way Savin eyed him, his tongue darting over thin lips, probably subconsciously. Once they were in the shower together, Jazz focused on the way Savin’s body felt pressed against his, how Savin’s mouth tasted, how Savin’s hands seemed to know exactly where to touch to get him aching and begging for release.
It didn’t matter that Savin’s apartment was a little small and a little run down. Compared to the life Jazz was used to, it felt homey. Right. Even Savin’s cramped shower felt better than the bathrooms available to him at home -- even though the showers there were much better suited for having sex in.
Too bad he had to leave. He couldn’t even leave Savin with his number, though Savin tried to give Jazz his. Jazz took it and smiled, typing it in wrong as Savin rattled the numbers off to him. Once Jazz stepped out of Savin’s apartment, he sighed and put his phone to his ear.
“I’m fine, Dad,” he muttered into the phone as he began to make his way out of the apartment complex. “Tell the Guard to pick me up at Summerset apartments. I’ll be nearby.”
He didn’t give his father a chance to say anything, hanging up the phone and placing it back in his pocket. He made his way to a visible, but not too conspicuous spot, and waited. Sighing, he placed his hands in his pockets, chewing on his bottom lip. He tugged on the collar of his shirt, hoping Savin hadn’t left any obvious marks on his body.
Jazz snorted when he saw the black vehicle pull up in front of him only minutes later. A woman stepped out of the driver’s side door, walking around the perimeter of the car and opening the door for Jazz. “Prince Jasper,” she said with a nod.
“Mornin’, Alexandra,” Jazz said, keeping his voice low as he slipped inside the car. The door shut firmly behind him, his heart sinking in his chest as he pulled the seat belt across his lap.
“Your father wishes to speak with you when we arrive back at the Palace,” Alexandra said as she climbed into the driver’s seat, her voice firm. “Councilor Foraker also requested to see you, once your father is finished with you.”
Jazz winced. “Of course he does,” he said with a sigh. “Could you please not tell Mitchel where I’ve been?” he pleaded. He glanced around the inside of the car. “Where’s the rest of the Guard?”
“Back at the Palace,” Alexandra said, her tone lightening up some. She paused, pursing her lips together. “Are you and Mitchel having problems? You haven’t snuck out of the Palace like this in a long time...”
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Jazz said with a sigh, resting his head back against the seat. He crossed one leg over the other and looked out the window, watching as Alexandra drove them back towards the Palace. “Is Dad pissed at me?” he asked, hoping to change the subject.
“Is water wet?” Alexandra said wryly in response. “He wants to know how the hell you keep managing to sneak out of the Palace without any of the Guard on your tail. He thinks you’re paying them off.”
Jazz snorted, shaking his head. “With what money?” he asked. “It’s not like he doesn’t monitor every dollar I spend and where, anyway.”
“True,” Alexandra murmured, lifting her shoulder in a partial shrug. “So, why’d you sneak out, last night?” she asked, changing the subject back. “You gave the Guard quite the slip, too -- they didn’t even get remotely close to figuring out where you were, last night.”
Jazz smiled at that. “Good,” he said, resting his chin in his palm “That means I haven’t lost my touch.”
“Look, Jasper --”
“Jazz.”
“Jasper,” Alexandra repeated, an uncompromising note to her voice, “You need to stop sneaking out like this. You can’t just -- keep pushing off your duties as the Emperor’s son. You’re a prince, for Christ’s sake -- you need to start acting like it.”
“Thanks for the lecture, Dad,” Jazz muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. He glared at Alexandra and then sighed, shaking his head. “Look, I’m sorry,” he whispered, biting his bottom lip. “It’s just -- I never asked for this, y’know? I’d much rather live a normal life and work a normal job and just -- never have to worry about any of the political shit.”
“I’m aware,” Alexandra said with a sigh of her own. “And look, I’m just giving you the lecture now because maybe you’ll actually listen to me. You’re twenty-five. You’re an adult, and you need to start acting like it. This -- this sneaking out at night? It’s dangerous. It doesn’t matter that the general public doesn’t immediately recognize you for who you are -- there’s a bunch of dangerous shit going down right now. They might recognize you, and kill you.”
Jazz resisted the urge to roll his eyes and huffed. “Right,” he said, refusing to look over at Alexandra. “You know, you’re not my mother --”
“I’m more than well-aware,” Alexandra snapped. “That woman couldn’t ever be bothered with pretending to be your mother, even when she was alive. Just -- please, Jasper. Just listen to me for once. Stop sneaking out of the Palace. Start really learning what’s going on with the Empire. Please. For your sake -- for Mitchel’s sake.”
Jazz’s face burned, tears stinging at his eyes. He scowled, crossing his arms over his chest even tighter. “Mitchel and I aren’t --” He took in a deep breath, burying his fingers in his hair for a moment as he willed his voice to remain steady. “We broke up,” he finished.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Alexandra said, reaching out a hand and patting Jazz lightly on his knee. “Mitchel did seem rather self-centered. He can be kind of a jerk, too, during the Council meetings when he thinks someone is wrong -- I can only imagine how he treated you.”
Jazz nodded, not willing to trust his voice for a moment longer. He choked back his tears and shook his head. As Alexandra pulled them through the Palace gates, he looked over the huge, ornate building.
He wasn’t looking forward to speaking with his father.
Next Chapter